


The Great

by Cosmic_Retribution



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: A bit bittersweet but overall happy, A little story about friendship, Character death I guess technically implied due to the nature of Asriel/Flowey as a person, Gen, I'm really excited and nervous to be posting it!, Neutral Run, Other characters are mentioned but don't deliver any dialogue, this is my first story on ao3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 11:46:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13434072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmic_Retribution/pseuds/Cosmic_Retribution
Summary: When he was younger, the Prince said something to Papyrus that would stick with him for years to come, and when he told him he would be his friend, he never stopped meaning it.





	The Great

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post to Ao3, so I don't know a whole lot about how this site works yet. If I've messed anything up, my apologies.  
> I wrote this story around a year ago and just never did anything with it, but I thought it might be nice to post it.  
> Please note the perspective switches after the line break.  
> I hope you enjoy!

The Royal Scientist was a spindly man, vaguely intimidating in a sense and appearing as though he were wearing a cloak woven of oblivion itself. He held himself stiffly, formally, though the slight twitching of his skeletal fingers betrayed some sort of nervousness as he waited to meet with the king.

He was accompanied by two smaller individuals that I had not seen before, dressed in fairly casually, one in red, one in blue. The one in blue stood behind him with a similar apprehensiveness, though his counterpart appeared rather excited about the whole situation, untouched by his companions’ unease.

I had to look up to see the scientist’s face as I entered the room. “The king will be meeting you shortly, Mr. Gaster, sir,” I informed him. “…And he wants you to know he’s making you some of his favorite tea.”

Gaster nodded, shoulders slumping a bit at mention of the tea.

Of course, Asgore insisted on making it for nearly everyone who so much as set foot in New Home, though it seemed to ease the scientist’s anxiety a bit. “Thank you, prince Asriel,” he murmured.

I nodded shyly and moved out of the way. “You can go ahead in,” I told him, and he did so, leaving his companions behind.

There was a long moment of awkward silence. I looked down, straightening my sweater a bit, not sure of what to do next and wishing Chara was there to give me direction. Unfortunately, they had a bit of catching up to do on their lessons with mom.

Finally, the one in red asked, “who are you?”

His counterpart set a hand on his shoulder. “That’s Prince Asriel,” he told him.

I felt my face go red with embarrassment. “You can just call me Asriel.”

“My name’s Papyrus,” the skeleton declared. “But I don’t have a title like you.” This seemed to sadden him a bit, as though he wished to feel important as well.

He seemed about my age, maybe a year or two younger, I didn’t know. I felt compelled to say something.

“That’s okay,” I told him, making something up on the spot: “you can be The Great Papyrus.”

His eyes widened. “You think I’m great?”

“Sure,” I said. “Well, you seem rather nice. Kindness is a very important attribute, you know. Don’t you think?”

“Can we be friends!?” Papyrus exclaimed, beaming at me.

His companion seemed to be about to interject, but I said, “of course we can.”

So he ran up to me, nearly tripping over himself as he did so, taking my hand and shaking it vigorously. “It’s nice to meet you, Asriel!!”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Say, friend,” Papyrus said suddenly. “Do you think there’s any of that tea left over for us?”

I couldn’t resist a smile. “Certainly, there’s some in the kitchen. Go ahead and help yourself.”

Papyrus dashed off, and the other skeleton watched him go with a sentimental smile and a small chuckle.

Another moment passed. “Hey, thank you for being so nice to my brother,” he said, offering me a vague smile.

I looked down shyly. “No problem, it was my pleasure. He seems very nice.”

“My name is Sans,” said the other.

“Are you friends with the Royal Scientist?” I asked.

Sans’s smile faltered a bit. “In a… sense.”

“That’s neat,” I said. “If you want, you can go in and have some tea, too. We have plenty.”

“Thanks.” Sans paused for a moment. “Hey, uh… did you mean what you said about being friends with my brother?” he asked.

“Yeah, he does seem very sweet.” I paused for a minute. “You’d think the Prince of the Underground would have more friends, but…”

Sans nodded in understanding.

After a moment he remarked, “it’s a beautiful day outside.”

“Mmhmm.”

“The birds are singing, flowers are blooming…” Sans trailed off. “On days like these, kids like you ought to be playing outside.”

I got the message. “I suppose so,” I agreed, turning to leave so that he could wait for the scientist to come back in peace.

“It was nice talking to you, Prince Asriel,” he called over his shoulder as I went. I thought of saying something back, but I didn’t know what to say. Despite this, I felt that I’d done a fairly good job of hiding my social anxiety. And, well, everything else.

I walked back into the house-- the walls lined with my paintings, most all very old. I didn’t think they were much good, but mom and dad loved them. Painting was a hobby I’d had for quite a while, that and drawing. I went to go grab my sketchbook and sit on my bed, and I replayed the afternoon’s interaction over in my head a few times.

 

…

 

The next time W. D. Gaster came to visit my father, he left the pair of skeletal brothers behind. That was the last I saw of them for many years, though I wondered occasionally if the younger one still considered himself my friend.

 

* * *

 

It was late in Snowdin and the only sound that could be heard was the sound of slippered feet crunching through the snow.

The sky above was clear-- well, what of a “sky” that the Underground possessed, that being the hundreds of feet of air above them, all the way up to the roof of the cavern.

It had been a long day at work for Sans-- not that he wasn’t used to having to put in hours upon hours of tedious work, as he had been doing for countless years, all the way back into his youth. It was just that he was itching to get home to see his brother. Yet his pace wasn’t hurried, as usual; he was trying hard not to drag his feet through the snow as he walked. Sans just wanted to eat some overcooked pasta, watch TV with his brother and try not to overthink life for just a little while.

As soon as he opened the door to their house, however, he knew something was up.

The first thing to register to him was the heavy feeling of some foreign power, a nearly indetectable hum of energy pulsing through the room. The feeling grated against him, an ominous sort of static sparking an uneasy feeling in him. It struck him as hauntingly familiar-- though how he might have recognized it, he didn’t know.

He felt this the very second he entered the room, and the next second he heard Papyrus’s voice greeting him: “HELLO, DEAR BROTHER!”

This is when he noticed the next thing: a second being in the house, accompanying his brother.

Thick green tendrils were curled around Papyrus’s bones. Some sort of petaled demon was wrapped around his brother, with dark eyes and a sarcastic grin. It took the shape of a six-petaled golden flower. This, clearly, was the source of the power he had felt: it radiated an energy and command that made the room feel heavy.

“I MET A FRIEND TODAY!!” Papyrus told him excitedly as he dashed to his side. “HIS NAME IS… UH… WHAT IS YOUR NAME AGAIN, FRIEND?”

“It’s, um, Flowey,” the demon supplied simply. “Flowey the flower.”

It struck Sans as a horribly unimaginative name. It was a mystery how a being with such an aura could be this… unoriginal, childish.

“Ah, um…” Sans eyed the creature warily. “Where did you meet this… ‘Flowey’?”

“I RAN INTO HIM ON THE WAY HOME FROM TRAINING WITH UNDYNE TODAY,” Papyrus announced. “HE IS A VERY INTERESTING FELLOW, IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF!”

“Uh, that’s--”

“I INVITED HIM OVER FOR DINNER TODAY!” Papyrus continued, heedless of Sans’s misgivings, “I KNEW YOU WOULDN’T MIND, OF COURSE!! THERE’S ALWAYS PLENTY OF PASTA TO SHARE!!”

Flowey offered Papyrus a slight smile, as if he found his antics sort of endearing. Sans’s eyes narrowed. “So, uh… ‘Flowey’... Where are you from?” Sans asked.

His smile faltered. “That’s none of your business.”

“Really? Why can’t you tell me?” Sans asked.

“WHY DON’T WE ALL GET SOMETHING TO EAT?” Papyrus interjected suddenly, before Flowey could form a reply.

Papyrus made some of his ‘famous’ pasta for the three, including a miniature serving for Flowey in a small cup. They sat down at the couch to watch one of Mettaton’s shows as they ate.

Usually, Sans and Papyrus would talk while they ate, but now the three sat in awkward silence. There was only the white noise of the TV and the undetectable thrum of energy radiating from the demonic flower Papyrus had brought home with him.

Eventually it was Flowey who broke the silence. “Papyrus, do you like to read?” he inquired.

“OH, CERTAINLY! I READ BOOKS ON HUMAN HISTORY QUITE FREQUENTLY, THEY ARE RATHER FASCINATING!” Papyrus replied excitedly. “HOW ABOUT YOU, FLOWERY?”

If the demon noticed Papyrus’s mispronunciation, he didn’t comment. “I have read a lot of books.”

“REALLY? HOW MANY”

“All of them.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Sans said.

Flowey glanced at the nearest book in their house-- a joke book. “The first joke on page twelve is a joke about what skeletons tile their roofs with.”

Sans blinked. That was correct, it was one of his favorite jokes. “How did you know that?”

“I have read every book in the Underground.”

“WOWIE, THAT’S AMAZING!!” Papyrus exclaimed. “YOU MUST BE VERY KNOWLEDGEABLE. SAY, DO YOU ENJOY ART?”

“I used to paint sometimes,” Flowey said.

“You don’t have hands,” Sans remarked, but Flowey didn’t acknowledge it.

“DO YOU THINK YOU COULD SHOW ME SOME OF YOUR ART?” Papyrus asked.

Flowey smiled a little sentimentally. “I don’t have it anymore. It’s all very old, anyway.”

“WHAT A SHAME,” Papyrus said, standing up with his now-empty plate and taking Sans’s as well. “SAY, WOULD YOU LIKE TO VIEW MY COLLECTION OF AWESOME AND INTERESTING FIGURINES?”

“Well, sure, why not.”

Papyrus put their dishes in the sink and vanished upstairs, leaving Sans behind and staring after them in confusion. He wasn’t sure who this ‘Flowey’ person was, but there was something distinctly _off_ about him. And he had the vaguest feeling that they’d met before.

 

…

 

Up in Papyrus’s room, Flowey was handed a rather dramatically posed figurine with ridiculous hair. “I’VE BEEN TOLD THIS ONE’S NAME IS ‘MIKU’,” Papyrus declared.

“That’s very interesting,” Flowey said politely as he examined the strange item. It was almost definitely something from the surface, and it looked more like something that Dr. Alphys would own. “This is quite a collection you’ve amassed here.”

“WHY, THANK YOU!” Papyrus said, seeming flattered.

Papyrus showed Flowey each of his figurines, and began to ramble on about this and that while Flowey listened agreeably.

He eventually moved on to explain other objects in his room: the pirate flag, the race car bed, the closet (“no skeletons in there! Except me sometimes.”), the computer.

They sat on Papyrus’s bed and chatted for a while, until the sun had set. Every now and then Flowey would dispense some strange cryptic knowledge or make a sarcastic comment, but for the most part he was surprisingly friendly. Papyrus, of course, was eager to befriend him, and he absorbed everything that Flowey said with great enthusiasm.

Eventually Flowey glanced out the window. “I should probably get going soon. I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” he said apologetically.

“ALRIGHT. WELL, IT HAS BEEN NICE MEETING YOU TODAY, FLOWEY!” Papyrus said.

“It’s been nice seeing you, too.”

Papyrus continued, “I AM CERTAIN WE WILL BECOME GREAT FRIENDS! VERY GREAT INDEED.” He smiled to himself a little. “AFTER ALL, THEY DON'T CALL ME _'THE GREAT'_ PAPYRUS FOR NOTHING!”

Now a different sort of expression filled Flowey’s face-- a genuine smile, laced with a sort of bittersweet sentimentality.

“I know.”


End file.
